


Bruised, but breathing

by RoisinDubhCosplay



Series: Just breathe [3]
Category: Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Aftermath of Violence, F/M, Hurt Jay Halstead, Jay Halstead Needs A Hug, Missing Scene, Post 3x01, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:53:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28051983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoisinDubhCosplay/pseuds/RoisinDubhCosplay
Summary: In the dark he rubbed his wrists and pressed his feet against the arm panel of the couch. He was home. He could get up and leave if he wanted to.The sound of his own broken scream echoed in his ears as he curled in on himself, covering his eyes with his lower arm to block out the last bit of light.---Jay leaves the hospital in the aftermath of his kidnapping in 3x01. Just a nap and he'll be as good as new, right?
Relationships: Jay Halstead/Erin Lindsay
Series: Just breathe [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968604
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	Bruised, but breathing

Jay hated nights at the hospital. Hospitals were bad enough during the day, but there was something strangely unsettling about the nights. It was usually quiet, but never completely; there were unfamiliar noises, however hushed they might be, and from time to time the hallways erupted with a buzz that told Jay that someone, somewhere, was trying and often failing to save a life.

One night. He’d promised, so he lay on the too soft mattress and tried to do what everyone had told him to.

_Get some sleep._

He’d held it off as long as possible, taking his time with the hospital food, discussing heatedly with Will about the last football match, and making an unnecessarily long trip to the small bathroom which at least confirmed that his kidneys were fine. But the drugs were working reliably, so eventually he did fall asleep, sometime after sending Will away to have a drink for him at Molly’s. To Jay’s relief it was a dreamless kind of sleep. He woke up in the middle of the night, his mind momentarily blank instead of haunted by snippets of nightmare. He squinted at his phone to read the clock, but the immediate headache was enough to dismiss the idea of turning on the TV to pass the time.

The nurse had forbidden it, but Jay was sure that he’d be able to get TV privileges if he tried.

He was a Halstead, after all.

Erin had loved to tease him about his puppy eyes. It had only taken him two years until they’d finally gotten him into the driver’s seat.

He sighed quietly. He missed those days, the banter, the friendship, the – whatever it was. Maybe he could get it back. Didn’t he deserve to, after everything?

He was startled when the door of his room suddenly opened. Dim light streamed in as a shadow stepped inside.

“Who is it?”

The shadow chuckled. The door closed and darkness returned, and for a moment Jay felt his heartbeat quickening.

“You don’t recognize my steps? I’m disappointed.”

Jay exhaled somewhat shakily.

“Hey, Will.”

“I was extra quiet so that I wouldn’t wake you. You should be asleep,” Will said and Jay could just make out his silhouette and feel the mattress shift as his brother sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Well, you should be at Molly’s. Or passed out in your _own_ bed.”

Jay emphasized the last part. Then he realized that he didn’t even know if Will slept in his own bed these days. He felt Will’s hand on his lower leg.

“Just checking in on my little brother.”

“Sweet.”

“And Natalie’s working the night shift.”

“Ha, I thought so!”

Both men laughed, and Jay chose to ignore the fact that Will didn’t delve deeper into the subject. It was good to have his brother there. There was something calming about his presence, and to Jay’s utter surprise his eyes became heavy again. He tried to stifle a yawn and blinked against the way his eyelids threatened to fall. Will’s fingers pressed lightly onto his shin.

“It’s alright, Jay. Get some rest.”

“Will –“

“I’ll be right here.”

Maybe it was enough. Maybe the darkness wouldn’t get him then.

* * *

Jay woke up early the next morning. Will had made good on his promise, and Jay grinned as he perceived his brother slumped on the chair beside the bed. He was in for one hell of back pain, that much was sure.

At least he wouldn’t suffer alone. Jay groaned as he tried to sit up in his bed. Whatever painkillers he’d been given before, they were wearing off, and every bruise and jarred bone made itself known. He felt sore and exhausted despite the sleep, and he could only suspect that he looked awful, too. He glanced at his phone. A few text messages, some news notifications; he could as well read them later. Nothing from Erin, and he wished he didn’t feel as disappointed as he did.

Jay decided that it was time to go. His stomach was rumbling, and the typical hospital smell was as irritating as ever. He coughed just loudly enough to startle Will awake. His brother squinted against the light and stretched his limbs. Then he gave Jay a disapproving look.

“Very subtle, Jay, really.”

“Good morning to you, too.”

Will remained on the chair and eyed Jay from where he was sitting. He was in full doctor mode again, so Jay plastered on his brightest smile and ignored the way he could feel the bruise press against his cheekbone. At least the headache had abated a little.

“I’m good to go,” he said and looked pleadingly at Will. “Can I check out now?”

He might as well rest at home. Inside his own four walls, on his own mattress, without the smell of disinfectants and sickness and the sounds of creepy machines. Somewhere his nightmares could be kept at bay more easily.

“Let me page Choi.” He worked on his pager and then made his way to Jay’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… okay.”

He’d wanted to say he was fine, as it was his usual answer to that question, but Jay remembered the previous episode all too well. So he went for the more honest answer and Will nodded approvingly.

“No more bullshit, I see. How’s the head?”

“Not worse than after a night at Molly’s.”

“Uh-huh. Ribs?”

“I can breathe.”

As long as he didn’t take too deep a breath, he barely felt his ribs twinging. 

Will opened his mouth to say something in return, but in that moment Dr. Choi and Susan entered the room. The former started with the same questions, taking notes as Jay dutifully answered everything as truthfully as he deemed acceptable. He forced himself to take a deep breath when Dr. Choi pressed the stethoscope against his chest and hoped that nobody would notice the way he ground his teeth. On a small monitor Dr. Choi, Will and Susan checked the readings of his heart monitor, and Jay felt a weight lifted off his chest as the doctors smiled at him.

“Looking good, Jay. No irregularities, nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared then.”

For a split second the sound of the electric current echoed in Jay’s ears. It was gone just as quickly but it still made his stomach churn.

He was going to be fine. There was no lasting harm. Everything they’d done, he’d come out on the other side.

“I say you’re good to go.”

“Awesome.”

Jay dismissed the idea of changing into clean clothes in the hospital room, he might as well put on his PJs at home. He grumpily accepted that he had to be in a wheelchair until he reached the huge, sliding glass door of the exit, and signed the release papers as quickly as possible.

It wasn’t a long drive to his flat, and Jay watched the cars and street signs pass by through the window of the passenger seat. He was aware of the sideway glances that Will threw him, but he chose to ignore them. They didn’t speak until they reached Jay’s address.

“You don’t have to –“

“Of course I’ll bring you inside. Doctor’s orders.”

In the end Jay actually appreciated Will’s supporting hand as he got out of the car and up the flight of stairs to his door. He was feeling a little bit light-headed; his legs were unsteady. He forced his hand to be steady when he put the key into the lock and sighed in relief when he finally stepped into familiar surroundings.

He allowed Will to help him out of his jacket before he scanned the living room. Everything looked the way he had left it, which was to be expected, rationally. It had only been two nights, after all. Nothing had changed here.

“Coffee?” he asked Will and headed for the kitchen. His brother followed and whistled softly as he entered the kitchen.

“Look at that, you did the dishes.”

“Huh.” Jay inspected the plates that were stacked beside the sink, and the two glasses and one pot that had never been so shiny. “Mouse. He came here to get me some clothes, he must have done that.”

A warm feeling spread in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Lucky bastard indeed.

Will placed a small box of drugs onto the counter.

“Not more than one within eight hours, alright?”

“You don’t have to tell me that every time.”

“I wish I didn’t have to tell you this, ever.” Will gave him a stern look, one that Jay knew always worked on his patients, but there was something else beneath that doctor’s look. “Jay, if you need anything else, just let me know. And if you wanna talk about –“

“Thanks. But I’ll be okay.”

He’d talked about it way too much already.

For a second Will looked as if he wanted to object, but ultimately he just turned on the coffee maker and fetched a cup. Jay poured himself a glass of water and sat down at the small kitchen table. He held the glass in an iron grip, but couldn’t bring himself to drink it. His head was pounding, but not as bad as before. The water was starting to boil in the coffee maker, and the fridge made its usual low, whirring sound. He was home.

“Better let the others know I’m here,” he said and his brother nodded.

“They’ll be happy to hear that.”

Jay took his phone out of his pocket while Will was busy pouring himself just the right ratio of coffee, milk and sugar. Maybe it was an intentional distraction, Jay thought, so that he would pretend that he didn’t notice the way his fingers were trembling as he unlocked his phone. The hard case of the phone pressed against the bandage around his little finger and ring finger. He could still feel his broken bone throbbing slightly, but the doctors had assured them that the clean fracture would heal without complications.

He texted Mouse first, then Hank. After a little consideration he sent a separate message to Erin. Hank would inform the team of course, but Erin, just like Mouse, wasn’t just the team.

_Hey, just letting you know I’m back home now. Don’t worry, I’m fine._

Will downed the coffee like others would take a shot at a bar, not without mumbling an almost unintelligible curse about burning his tongue that actually made Jay laugh for the first time in 72 hours.

“Gotta head back to work,” Will grumbled, “so be a good patient and rest and I’ll drop by as soon as I can later.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Shut up.”

The brothers hugged briefly at the door. Will left with a few final instructions and unnecessarily graphic descriptions of where Jay could stick his “I’m fine’s”, then the door fell shut. Jay turned the key around and, for a moment, just remained where he was, leaning against the door and listening to the motor of Will’s car.

Back in the kitchen his phone blinked, revealing several text messages in response to his. He read them all, hoping that he could avoid any calls for a while.

People always wanted to talk, and Jay was pretty sure that he had no intention whatsoever to play through the past events again. He was absolutely certain that he didn’t want to see any concern or, worse, pity on his colleague’s faces, so he had to let some time pass. With the glass of water in hand Jay made his way to the living room. He closed the shutters against the morning light streaming in and pulled the curtains closed for good measure. His headache ceased a little. He sank down on the couch, allowing himself a slight groan that he knew would have put Will into high alert mode. Although he was sure that the painkillers were still working, he could already feel the aching in his bones return. He took a few sips from the water before he lay down on the couch, closing his eyes and forcing himself to take even breaths.

Every intake of breath sent a spark of pain along his ribs, and with each stabbing sensation Jay thought he could feel the cracked bones moving beneath the skin.

In the dark he rubbed his wrists and pressed his feet against the arm panel of the couch. He was home. He could get up and leave if he wanted to.

The sound of his own broken scream echoed in his ears as he curled in on himself, covering his eyes with his lower arm to block out the last bit of light.

Three nights ago at Molly’s, the way Adam laughed so much that beer came out of his mouth. The pool competition against Severide and Casey and Atwater’s victory dance. A silly joke Will had told him right before his deployment. The soft smile on Erin’s face back at the ambulance.

It was these things that he tried to focus on, that somehow managed to keep the other darkness at bay when he drifted into oblivion.

* * *

Jay woke with a start. He couldn’t quite remember his dreams, but he realized he was shaking. The blanket had fallen from its place on the arm panel; he must have thrashed his legs while sleeping. It took him a few seconds to loosen the iron grip on the pillow he was clutching. His head was pounding. Blindly he reached for his watch on the coffee table and squinted against the small LED light. 9.30 am. He grabbed the glass from the table and downed the rest of the water, then proceeded to look at his phone.

_Let me know if you need anything. E._

Jay smiled a little when he read the message, but didn’t really know what to respond. So he just settled for a simple “Thank you”. Just as he’d sent it, the phone rang.

“Hello, Sarge.”

“How’re you feeling, Jay?” Voight asked with an unusually soft tone in his gruff voice. They hadn’t spoken ever since right after the rescue and Jay wasn’t too keen on giving his boss any reason to doubt his ability to return to work asap.

“I’m good, thanks for asking. Still on some pain killers,” he admitted, knowing that Voight would find out anyway, “but I’ll be fit for duty tomorrow.“

“Take all the time you need.”

“Sure, boss.”

He got off the couch and, in the dark, made his way to the light switch. He turned on the smaller light in the corner, not trusting his aching head to be able to deal with a fully illuminated room.

“Anything you need, you let me know, alright?”

The light flickered. He watched, mesmerized, as the light went off, then on again. He could feel a shiver running down his spine; suddenly he felt nauseous, instinctively leaning against the wall for support. Very distantly, he heard the echoes of voices, sneers and questions, again and again.

“No, damnit,” he whispered, pressing the back of his head against the wall and closing his eyes against the light. His wrists felt like they were on fire, and the flames spread through his limbs, a wildfire and a trail of ash in its wake.

“Jay?”

The walls closed in on him; maybe he had never left that basement, maybe he was still there, helpless, defenseless, about to get Erin killed for his stupidity. Blood was coating his fingers, dripping from his fingertips and onto the floor, in sync with the light, _tip, tip, tip_ –

“Jay? Jay!”

“I’ll call you back,” he managed to groan, then the phone fell from his slippery hands, and his vision started to swim.

_It’s not real. It’s not real._

He knew it wasn’t. But the light was flickering and whenever he looked, the metallic lamp turned into a naked light bulb, the paint on the wall chipped away, and the echo of his own screams sent lightning through his skull.

He stumbled towards the lamp, desperately trying to force air into his lungs with every hitched breath. He could barely breathe and his hands were shaking as he tried to find the switch. It was there somewhere, he’d just turned to damn thing on, but every time he looked too closely he felt the ground falling away beneath his feet, sending him straight back into that basement; he could hear footsteps, light and still so powerful, Erin, they had Erin, and his fingers were dripping red, _tip, tip_ -

The lamp crashed to the floor and the room imploded into darkness.

Jay cursed under his breath. Blindly, he made his way back to the couch and collapsed there, elbows propped up on his knees, heels of his hands pressed against his eyes.

He was home. He was safe. Erin was safe. He was home.

He repeated those words again and again, not knowing how much time was passing, but he couldn’t suppress the shaking of his body. He squinted through his fingers to find only darkness, and he exhaled slowly. He hated these kinds of flashbacks. He was used to them, of course; the nightmares were different, the triggers were different, but the shaking and the pit in his stomach were always the same, as well as the feeling of suffocation.

“Man up, damnit,” Jay whispered to the empty, drawing his knees up to his chest and reaching for the blanket in the dark. He pulled it up to his chest, trying to ignore the stabbing sensation in his side, and blinked against the stinging in his eyes. He would not fall apart and cry. It was just another bad episode. He was going to be okay, he always was in the end.

Sometimes, on bad nights, the thought crossed his mind that he might have to live with his demons forever.

On very bad nights, he vowed that he would rather not live at all than live with his demons.

In his head, he could hear, faintly, the echoes of his screams. They mingled with far more distant cries, ever present in his memory since that fateful day in Kandahar, and it took all of him to not foolishly cover his ears with his hands like a child.

Inhale. One, two, three – exhale.

The doorbell rang.

“Jay? Jay, you in there? Open up!”

Go away, he wanted to say. Don’t see me like that, he thought. But instead he found himself getting off the couch, groaning as the movement sent another wave of pain through his body. After maneuvering through the living room, he found the light switch for the hallway. He switched on the light, momentarily blinded by the brightness that made the headache return with full force.

“Jay?”

“Coming!” he called, putting his best effort into sounding as composed as possible.

He made his way to the front door and put on his best smile when he opened it. The way Erin threw one look at him told him that she saw right through his act before he could even say he was fine.

“Hank called me. What happened, Jay?”

“Nothing, I was just – bad connection, you know, damn phone –“

“Right.”

Erin walked towards the living room and all Jay could do was follow her. He was grateful that she didn’t switch on the light there. The illumination that came from the hallway was enough to see. Jay groaned inwardly when he saw the mess that was the broken lamp on the floor. His headache turned into a sledgehammer just staring at the broken pieces of glass in the floor.

“I stumbled and fell into it,” he mumbled when Erin looked at his with raised eyebrows. “Meant to clean it up later.”

Erin didn’t comment. Instead, she switched on the small light on the cupboard, one of those gifts that he’d received back when he’d moved into his very first flat and that somehow had survived the years. Erin sat down on the couch. She was wearing a black shirt and jeans, but for a second Jay thought he could see her in that other room, blood-soaked shirt clinging to her body, eyes wide with adrenaline.

He realized that he was still standing, almost frozen in place with his gaze set on her, and he cleared his throat.

“Anything to drink?”

She shook her head, but it was a good excuse to head for the kitchen anyway. Jay poured himself another glass of water and downed half of it in one go, washing down one of the pills his brother had given him. Maybe it was too early, but he didn’t care in that moment. He returned to the living room and sat down next to Erin, suddenly unable to look her in the eye.

“How’s work?” he asked to diffuse the tension.

“The usual. We got a new case, double homicide, probably gang business. We’re working on it.”

“I should be there.”

He hated being behind; as long as he held his headache at bay, he could as well work with the team, even if it meant paperwork at the desk instead of being in the streets.

“You need rest, Jay. No matter how much – how much we miss you there.”

Her voice caught in her throat for a second.

“I miss you guys, too,” Jay said quietly. There was a lot he couldn’t say out loud, but he hoped she understood him anyway. “I need to get back on the job, Erin. Tomorrow.”

He startled when he felt her hand on his thigh.

“I know, Jay. And you will be. Everything’s gonna be back to normal.”

“Yeah.”

She understood. As always, she understood that he needed to get back as soon as possible, because otherwise the whole episode would mean something. It would have an impact that it shouldn’t have.

“I’m sorry, Jay.” Suddenly Erin’s voice was quiet. “About what happened. It was my fault.”

The statement took him by surprise, and he finally looked closely at her. There were dark circles under her eyes; her lips were pressed to a thin line as she cast down her gaze.

“It was you who got me out, Erin. Anything else isn’t your fault. How could it? You weren’t even there when –“

He stopped himself mid-sentence when Erin turned pale.

_You weren’t even there._

“Erin –“

“Exactly, Jay. I wasn’t there. You’ve always been there for me, again and again and when you needed me, I let you down,” Erin said bitterly. “Hank was right, if I’d been there, none of that would have happened and you – you –“

She fell silent.

Her words sank in slowly.

“Hank said that?” Jay asked, barely able to suppress his anger. No matter how true his words were, their boss had no right to say them out loud. Not to her. “Erin, listen to me. There’s nothing you could’ve done. It was just bad luck. I’ll get over it.”

He tried to sound as cheerful as possible. Bruises and scars would fade, they always did.

“I’m just glad it was you that they sent in. Screw Ruzek and Antonio, we all know you’re better than all of us.”

Erin chuckled, then cleared her throat.

“And I’m glad that I got you out. The moment Al told me what happened, all I could think of was how I’d left you standing there. How I’d shut you down. The way I treated you that day – you didn’t deserve that.”

“Al told you?”

“Yeah.”

He remembered the red light of the camera. The tasers and beatings and muffled cries and the rattling of the chain.

“Did you see –“

“No. No, Jay, I didn’t see the video. I know there was one, but I figured you wouldn’t want me to see it, so I didn’t.”

He nodded, feeling a weight lifted off his chest that he hadn’t even known was there. 

“I care about you, Jay.” Her hand reached out for his and she finally looked at him. “I really do. And I need you. I just didn’t realize how much until I almost lost you. And I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Jay curled his fingers around hers and squeezed lightly. His gaze fell onto the broken lamp on the floor. It was a mess, this life of theirs; so much had been broken, leaving them in pieces. But they had come out on the other side, and picking up the pieces was always a little bit easier when they had each other.

“Of course I forgive you. Just promise you’ll stay.”

She laid her head onto his shoulder with a small sigh. Even without seeing her face, he knew that she was smiling. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His ribs were still aching, his head was still throbbing, but there was also a warm feeling in his chest that he focused on. His demons might not leave anytime soon, but he could keep them silent if he wanted to. It was a fight he was willing to face, seeing how much he had to lose. He pulled Erin closer and felt her pressing against him.

And he thought that, despite everything, things were suddenly much better than they’d been three days ago.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the end of my little trilogy. I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know what you think.


End file.
